


only suckers fall in love with perfect strangers

by djsoliloquy



Category: Dream Daddy: A Dad Dating Simulator
Genre: Asphyxiation, Depression, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Light Sadism, M/M, Pain, Self-Destruction, Semi-Public Sex, it's a metaphor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-29
Updated: 2017-07-29
Packaged: 2018-12-08 09:55:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11644104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/djsoliloquy/pseuds/djsoliloquy
Summary: Joseph laughs that sexy laugh and Robert can’t tell if it’s making him nauseous or turning him on. It feels good. It feels so good. And it hurts. It hurts it hurts it hurts.Oh god, Robert thinks, closing his eyes. Oh god. What a relief.





	only suckers fall in love with perfect strangers

**1**

Pain appears in the cul-de-sac during the night like an old war buddy, bearing armfuls of unhealthy foods and fresh packs of smokes to Robert’s door. Robert doesn’t recognize what it is at first. The layers took months to peel away after the accident. Shock, to grief, to pain.

Then it’s old television reruns at 2AM, ignoring emails, hours of listening to his favorite gritty records. Pain knows all the words. 

When the whiskey runs out, pain pins Robert to his bed without asking. It throws him around until he has aches in his skin, torn-red hoarseness in his throat. It leaves him stranded, feeling lonely and foolish in the morning. 

With a whiskey chaser, things feel almost better by the time the bars open.

 

**2**

Robert never understood tequila as a bar drink. Tequila is what grandmas sip on hot afternoons, fussing over nothing like flocks of powdered gossiping doves.

But he decides he can give it a shot. Or three. Maybe margaritas aren’t so bad. They have a lot to recommend when Joseph spreads the salt on the back of Robert’s hand to lick off between drinks.

It gets better after Joseph marks him. A circle of stick-and-poke ink under the skin, salt poured inside the lines, an unholy stinging until Joseph meets his eye and sucks the salt and blood away.

This isn't good. Joseph’s tongue is pink as his shirt, his lips wet, dipping along the lines of mark he's made. His wedding ring gleams on the hand gripping Robert’s forearm.

But it feels good. It feels good when Robert also forgoes salt on his glass to take it from the side of Joseph’s neck. It feels good when he steps to the edge of hazy margarita oblivion and Joseph offers a hand to take him the rest of the way down. “Robert, listen.”

 _Listen_.

“It’s okay.”

 _You don’t have to think about it. Forget your worries for a while_.

Yes. That’s what he wants. Robert doesn't want to think about it.

Joseph’s eyes are clear, and dark, and deep. “Tonight is all that matters,” he says.

And Robert wants to fall.

 

**3**

Joseph pins him to his bed too. Having the weight over his hips squeezes at Robert’s heart until he swears he can feel the pinprick fingernail marks. Real and solid weight. Friction on his skin tangles with the tequila and Robert’s eyes roll back, his whole body floating away. That’s where he wants to be.

Yet every touch forces him down. Won’t let him leave. Joseph’s eyes linger on his face--the blue of ink at his wrist, the hollows of his throat where Joseph slides his thumb and presses down.

Hot.  _Hot_. Robert’s body is so hot, and he can’t speak. Can’t breathe. When Joseph hovers over him, offering his mouth, Robert opens--feeds, laps at his teeth, kisses him. The ocean rocks the yacht and in the pit of his stomach, Robert doesn’t know where  _up_  even is anymore. All mooring lost.

Joseph laughs that sexy laugh and Robert can’t tell if it’s all making him nauseous or turning him on. It feels good. It feels so good. And it hurts. It hurts it hurts it hurts.

Oh god, Robert thinks, closing his eyes. Oh god. What a relief.

 

**4**

They never sneak into a movie together, because Joseph would have insisted they pay. Robert does, once, sneak into a movie and find Joseph already there, seated alone in the last row.

It isn’t for what you’d call a _youth minister appropriate_ film. Robert has screaming visions of interrupting a new and different infidelity: faceless women being felt up, men shuddering helplessly under Joseph’s absentminded hand.

But no, it’s only Joseph. No mystery date momentarily away to use the restroom.

Wary, shamed, he sits beside Joseph in the dark. The movie starts. It’s a sad film. Someone in the audience is crying. Joseph happily crunches on popcorn as though each kernel is a small bone in someone's neck or wrist. Robert could imagine the beast. Joseph feeding on his fingers. Strong teeth on his thigh, working on him until he cracks open, piece by piece.

Like reality making good on a nightmare, he reaches for Joseph’s lap and meets Joseph’s fingers instead, seeking him out in return.

People are still crying in the audience, so nobody hears his sobs when Joseph pulls him out of his jeans and tightens a hand around his dick. There’s no letting up when he squirms—Joseph digs in harder, like he's toying with the grooves on a gear shift. Robert can keep pace, reaches over the armrest and reciprocates, yet he’s pinned as though Joseph snuck rope into the movie instead of candy.

The poor theater employee that has to deal with this mess, Robert thinks. Jesus.

Joseph leaves before the credits. He doesn’t come back. Robert sits through until the lights almost turn on, then exits through the back door.

 

**5**

Pain always catches his hand when he thinks of reaching out. So he stops reaching.

Pain bruises him, ties him down. Pain isn't gentle. Robert likes it. For a while. Because pain can be good company, or something like it. Tequila. Greasy food. It devours; not merciful, or honorable, but it chases him and he chases it back.

Joseph doesn’t introduce himself as a sadist. But he says he's seduced by the small lines in Robert’s face, the turn of his jaw, the soft give of his throat. 

Robert wakes. He hurts. He’s tired, hungover. Pain makes his fingers curl into numb shells over his palms. His arms are folded against his chest, protective in sleep. Where is his sweater?

Pain knows all the words. He hears Joseph singing under his breath, moving around the cabin.

“… _stayed here all season, with nothing to show but this brand new tattoo…_ ”

Robert breaks out in a sweat. No reason to it. Joseph is going to end it by the time they reach the shore, but Robert doesn’t know that yet. He's sure he doesn't know that.

He opens his eyes and watches Joseph pace around the room, passing the bed, picking up clothes and putting them away. When Joseph notices, he turns to join Robert on the bed. His nails burn when they draw over Robert’s shoulders, and the whispers are even hotter against his ear.

Pain knows all the words. It always knows what to say.

**Author's Note:**

> for stas, soft little bear and excellent beta ♥
> 
> hit me up on [tumblr](http://djsoliloquy.tumblr.com/)

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[podfic] Only suckers fall in love with perfect strangers](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13556226) by [Annapods](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Annapods/pseuds/Annapods)




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